


to bitter beginnings and sweeter endings

by Erensbyotch



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Humor, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Prague, eren is cute but also doesn't know how to flirt, eren works in a coffee shop, he also curses a lot so warning for curse language!, jean is an exchange student, jean is thirsty and also a tsundere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 12:17:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erensbyotch/pseuds/Erensbyotch
Summary: “To sweet beginnings and bitter endings / In coffee city we borrowed h̶e̶a̶v̶e̶n̶ headphones / Don’t give it back, I’ve never felt so wanted / Are you taking me home?” + “To sweet beginnings and bitter endings / In coffee city we borrowed h̶e̶a̶v̶e̶n̶ headphones / Don’t give it back, winter is coming / And I need to stay warm.”Jean is that awkward Exchange student who just /has/ to get a crush on a pretty guy the moment he lands in Prague. What a pity the pretty guy has a terrible, terrible attitude and doesn't know how to flirt.





	to bitter beginnings and sweeter endings

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! oh man, it's been a long time since i last posted anything.  
> this is a prompt i developed for a silly summer challenge (finished in september) with my best friend (thank you darling for supporting me ilysm)!  
> disclaimer1: english is not my first language and i tried to revise it as much as possible- i'm sorry for any eventual mistakes ;u;  
> disclaimer2: i've been to prague this summer and i LOVED IT, so i just had to set the story in this amazing city. my czech though is very lacking, so if anyone speaks the language and would like to correct me on something, please do!  
> tbh this is just a soft erejean because lord knows how much i need soft erejean in my life :(

 

 

**Prague, October 1 st. **

 

 

 

 Jean shivered lightly, the cold just barely getting under his layers of clothes. Luckily enough, even if it was the very first day of October, the temperature had not dropped drastically as he had expected. He had been blessed with a few more days of just a t-shirt and a hoodie, no oversized clothes blocking his movements. Mindlessly, he looked over his surroundings, hands in his pockets and headphones blasting music. He liked Prague. It had something exotic in it, even if it was still Europe and not that far from his home country. But that was where Prague picked his interest. It was similar to what he knew, and yet ultimately so different he could not stop himself from wanting to know and see more about it. He found it was the perfect balance between familiar and unfamiliar that made him glad he was here, and not miss home too badly.

 Right now, he found himself in the middle of the so-called Clock Square, drowsy tourists walking slowly all around him, with a few workers ready to set up their stands and shops. One thing Jean learned, was that Prague was a slow city. No rush, no life waking up with the sun. At half past nine am, everything was still asleep. He liked that. Made him feel less guilty for sleeping in once or twice.

 He looked up, the place where the famous Clock was supposed to be right in front of his eyes, putting salt on the wound. Obviously, Prague’s main attraction was not available the one year he moved there, just for his classic, famous luck. He scrolled his shoulders, looking around a bit more, phone ready in his hand to snap a few pictures of the artistic surroundings.

 Speaking about his phone― it vibrated against his palm, and Jean frowned, taken by surprise. It was a Sunday morning, way too early for any of the few friends he had made in university so far to be awake, and his mom usually liked to call him, instead of texting. Then, it must have been―

 

_ 9.35 a.m.  _

**to:** jeakirschtein@unika.cz

  ** _Dear Student,_**

 Yeah. College work. _Fan-fucking-tastic_. He groaned, skimming through the email just to find the deadline. 10 th of October. He had ten days to finish the assignment he should have started, well, definitely earlier than the night before. He groaned again. It was as if professor _smelled_ his mistake and manage to double the guilt he already felt for not starting soon. In his defence, Jean had been pretty busy with the new XBOX his mom bought him to “keep him company” ― and since he definitely had needed some company, it was only natural for him to run wide-armed to the console, rather than the university library. He knew it was his fault, obviously, and that there was nothing else to do but actually start his work. Still, it hurt. He looked at the blue sky, light shining through the leaves of the park he was walking in. _Farewell, daylight,_ Jean thought grimly, ready to know nothing but coffee and citations for a whole, amazing week.

 With one last dramatic sigh, Jean started heading towards his apartment on the other side of the Kar _lů_ v Most, bittersweet about the interruption of his touristy morning but with his mind set on doing some proper work.

 

***

 

 The _proper work_ lasted approximately an hour at best. 

 University was already a mistake per se. Majoring in Marketing was, in addition, a fucking pain in the ass. Not that he didn’t enjoy it, on the contrary. He was happy with what he was studying, and although it might not have been his ultimate passion, he did not regret the choice. That been said, Marketing remained and would forever be a fucking pain in the ass.

 He had never considered it possible, but looking through the bullet points that the professor had provided he came to the conclusion that yes, he was not hallucinating. Math essays were a thing, and he had been given the awful job of finding five thousand words to describe something he, quite frankly, knew little to nothing about, and all in ten days. Just your regularly scheduled shitty student life, after all.

 Jean stretched a bit on his chair, letting a puff of air leave his lips. Studying at home was no use. Not when his flatmate blasted anime opening from his room and the XBOX was calling him out loud. Not that he had anything against anime openings, nor the XBOX. They were just _extremely_ distracting. And God knows he did not a distraction right now.

 « This is fucking useless. » he groaned, looking at his laptop as if it was the object’s personal fault that math essays were a thing.

 He got up, packing his laptop into the backpack, and left the house in a matter of minutes. _The Wings’_ coffee was better than the one Connie made anyway.

 Outside, the weather was grim. The clouds were hovering over him, and the wind was howling. Jean pulled up his hood and shivered. Reaching the warm interiors of the coffee shop felt like a welcomed dream and he walked in, bag heavy and ready to just order and get it done with. _The Wings_ was close enough to home to be comfortable, and not Starbucks enough to be even better. Jean loved it there, although he had only been there once before.

 As he made his way in, his eyes were wandering towards the huge menu board, when they got distracted. Well, _he_ got distracted. Behind the counter, serving what looked like a very detailed and colourful Frappuccino, was the cutest fucking guy ever. His skin looked tanned, caramelized. Jean’s pale complexion felt heavily victimized. But most importantly, _he_ felt heavily victimized, as he recognized the face of the guy behind the counter.

 « _Ahoj, co si dáte?_ » Eren Jaeger asked before even meeting Jean’s eyes, his foreign accent barely slithering behind the Czech greeting.

 « A caramel latte with whipped cream. The milk should be oat. Thanks. » Jean replied in English, without even looking at him as he grabbed his wallet from the backpack.

 « Sure, one caramel oat latte with whipped cream for― » and before Jean could reply, Jaeger, whom he shared at least four classes with and went to Jean’s house to study with Connie repeatedly, answered himself with « Fancy French Costumer. »

 Jean whipped his head up and looked at him, already annoyed. Fucking Jaeger. The boy was grinning. Suddenly, Jean felt the urge to punch him in the face― which, to be fair, was the basic impulse he felt ever since the day they sat beside each other in that lecture hall. But since his mom had always taught him to be nice, and not perform any act that would end up with him in jail unless extremely necessary, Jean refrained from it. Barely. Jaeger had the amazing talent of pissing him off constantly, him and his stupidly fucking annoying cute face.

 « Jean. My name’s Jean, you fucking asshole. And I’m not French, I’m Canadian. » he replied instead, a tight smile on his lips.

 The other boy just laughed, and scribbled something on the white cup.

 « Sure thing, _Jan_. »

 Now he was really pissing him off. Jean (with an E) simply took out his credit card and handed it to him to pay. Shitty brat. He was so not in the mood for that. Especially the French joke. He was not French. Their accents were clearly different! Also, he had Justin Trudeau and good maple syrup, which was so much more any stupid French person could ever account to.

 « Uh-uh » was all the bartender replied, before sliding his card in and passing the cup to someone else. « Say hello to the Eiffel Tower from me this Christmas! » he added, as soon as Jean moved away to let the next costumer order. Jean took a deep breath, this close to just flip him the bird. Fuck that guy.

“ _Fuck that guy_ ” was also what he thought the moment an Asian girl handed him his cup. Well, he supposed he was his cup, since it was a caramel oat latte. But it was also for a French Fancy Costumer, and Jean thought himself to be, once again, _this close_ to just walk up to the counter and throw it in Jaeger’s face.

 Instead, he took a deep breath, smiled at the cute Asian girl (Mikasa? He remembered seeing her from time to time outside his lecture halls waiting for the brat) and just walked into the sitting area, hoping to find at least one chair and go back at his essay.

 For the next few days, every minute that Jean could spare between classes and napping was spent in _The Wings_. The essay and every other homework he had been assigned in that period of time accompanied him in his daily visits, keeping him busy between an annoying break and the other, all courtesy of Eren Jaeger.

 By day three, Jean had to begrudgingly admit to himself that, although the coffee at _The Wings_ was pretty fucking decent, there was another reason why his feet always brought him there after class, instead of somewhere else.

 And, apparently, he was not the only one who noticed.

 « You know, Ginny, if you didn’t make it so clear that you hate me, I would think you only come here to enjoy my presence like a flower does with the sun. » Jaeger joked once, sitting on the empty chair in front of Jean during his afternoon break.

 Jean’s first reaction, aside from snorting for the sake of appearances, was a minor and well-concealed panic attack.

 « Sure thing, Jaeger. In fact, there is no big ass Marketing book here on the table. I’m here just to be compared to a fucking plant doing photosynthesis. Also― you know what? I’m not even going to correct you on my name. Do your worst, » he spat, trying to sound as annoyed as possible and gluing his eyes onto the same page he had been reading for the last, well, thirty minutes.

 Jaeger snorted back, a mocking light in his fucking pretty eyes. _Fucking Jaeger_ , Jean thought bitterly.

 « Aw, c’mon, you’re no fun. Making fun of you is literally the light of my days! » Jaeger exclaimed dramatically.

 « What fucking shitty days you must have. » Jean replied without missing a beat, eyes still scanning the page without reading a single word.

 Eren just shook his head and got up from the chair, a smirk on his face. « Not as shitty as yours if you have nowhere else to go but this coffee shop, dickhead. »

 Jean just threw an empty plastic bottle at his head. The next day, he changed coffee shop.

 As he sat down a foreign boot, a foreign drink next to the laptop he was furiously typing on, Jean wondered why, after three days, he was so bothered by the fact that both the drink and the booth were different from the ones he was so used to find at _The Wings._   He sighed, taking a small break from typing, and passed both hands over his face, in an attempt to recollect himself. _Don’t be a fucking drama queen,_ he told himself, the bitter taste in his mouth not entirely coming from the coffee he had been drinking.

 Honestly, he should just grow the fuck up. Crushes are normal. Crushes on hot boys are completely understandable as well. But, as Jean grimly thought, the problem was not that he _might have been crushing_ (was totally, a hundred percent, crushing) on a boy. The problem was that the boy he was crushing on was Eren Jaeger, who had a fucking shitty attitude, kept getting his name wrong and they literally did not do anything but insult and fight with each other every time they met, coffee shop and university alike. That wasn’t really the ideal healthy relationship Jean wanted for himself, to be entirely honest. During the long ass journey from Canada to the Czech Republic, he had time to fill by picturing all the ideal possible relationships he could have once on the foreign soil. Eren Jaeger did not fit in any of the boxes he wanted to check. And yet, not even the cute Asian girl who worked with him (and who was, on a theoretical level, the perfect embodiment of Jean’s type) could take his mind off Eren’s bright eyes and tanned smile. Jean sighed again, rubbing his eyes in discomfort. This was a bit of a fucking annoying problem.

***

 

 « Maybe after he gives you a blowjob you’ll forget about him? »

 Jean didn’t even look up from his hot cocoa. Or better, he couldn’t, because otherwise Connie would notice his cheeks flushing furiously, and that would have been hella fucking embarrassing, because Jean Kirschtein does _not_ blush from just thinking about Eren Jaeger sucking him off.

 « Look Jean, I’m just saying― Eren’s pretty hot. I don’t like boys, but I have eyes and I can see that he looks like a super model or some shit. So, hey, it’s totally normal to lust after him! Maybe you two just have to give it a good go in _The Wings’_ bathroom and you’ll be fine! »

 This time, Jean spluttered a bit of the hot cocoa he was drinking, almost choking on himself. 

 « How do you even know I was talking about Jaeger?! » he asked, voice more cracked than he hoped it would be.

 Connie looked at him in pity from the kitchen counter where he was seated and took a long breath, as if to give Jean time to brace himself for the answer.

 « Because, you big bisexual idiot, you’ve been going to _The Wings_ no-stop for days, you kept ranting about those bright greenish bluish whatever the fuck sea coloured eyes, his tanned face, his solid ass, and I’m pretty sure the only person who answers this description is no one but Eren fucking Jaeger. You’re kinda insulting my intelligence here, ya know. »

 Jean muttered something under his breath, but it was so nonsensical that he didn’t even try to rephrase it better.

 « So yeah, in conclusion, I think you should just get banged and forget about this whole ordeal, man. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. »

 Jean Kirschtein had, for the love of God, never been closer to choke Connie Springer on the spot than he was in that very moment.

 « It’s not easy peasy lemon squeezy, you idiot! It’s difficult difficult lemon difficult and I don’t even know if he likes boys! »

 « He dated Armin for, like, a whole year. Plus, his uncle-in-law is Erwin Smith and, trust me, prolonged exposure to his arms make everyone at least a bit gay. »

 « Maybe he’s still in love with Armin! »

 « Maybe _you_ ’re in love with Armin! »

 « What? No! I like Ere― I mean― »

 Jean groaned into his hands, throwing his head back in a desperate attempt.

 « Plus, my arms look like chopsticks compared to Professor Smith’s. » he just tried, so feebly that Connie didn’t even bother with a reply.

 Springer had won that round anyway. Jean looked pathetically at his hot cocoa, brooding about his flatmate and self-proclaimed best friend’s word. Would a simple bang just solve it and let him sleep? Or would it just turn his already long nights, spent awake staring at the ceiling thinking about the other boy get even longer? Jean’s face twisted. He was twenty-two, for the love of God. He should have been more than enough ready to just get done with it. And he would. He would talk to Eren like an adult, stopping with the insults and starting to get real.

 The next morning, he stopped himself in front of _The Wings_.

  _Today’s the day_ , he thought. And then he just walked past it, coward legs taking him somewhere else.

 He thought _Today’s the day_ for the following week― but today was never the day. 

 For another whole week, Jean avoided the café altogether. He also tried his best to avoid Eren in class, during friends meetings and whatever other occasion they had to meet. He knew it was wrong, and stupid, and no matter how bratty Eren could be, he definitely did not deserve this. But Jean was scared.

 The thing was, his crush on Eren had been so different from any other crush he ever got before that Jean didn’t know how to act with it. First of all, although proudly considering himself a bisexual, Jean had always liked girls the most. All of his past partners had been girls― cute, small and gentle. And when he found some boys he liked, they were mostly the same. Jean _did_ have a type. A type that had absolutely nothing to do with loud, annoying and hot-headed Eren Jaeger. Eren Jaeger, who was a brat and always insisted in getting his name wrong, constantly got on his nerves― but also volunteered at an animal shelter (Jean saw him there as he was walking by one of the first weeks of college, and he immediately went “ah”), and looked at him with his beautiful eyes and a small, genuine smile on his face the few times they managed to talk like decent people and Eren asked Jean to tell him about Québec. And just thinking about those small moments made Jean’s heart rush like it never did before.

 

***

_ 04.45 am _

**shitty fucking brat:** hey jean could u like idk stop ignoring me or smth what the fuck

**shitty fucking brat:** pls come back to the coffeeshop

**shitty fucking brat:** i hate u

 

Jean had been staring at his phone screen for the last couple of minutes, uncapable of making sense out of what he was reading. Well, he could read. He knew what Eren had written. But still.

 First sign that something was wrong? He called Jean by his actual name. Secondly, he used pretty decent grammar, which was something Eren texts rarely had. Thirdly: it was 4am and Eren told him he hated him.

 Jean’s face felt like it was burning. Sure, he did ignore Eren for the longest time, as hard as he could. But he did not even once think that Eren might care, or even notice. But this―

 Jean looked at the time. He was late for class, half dressed and with a croissant in his hand. He could never make it in time― he didn’t even know what Eren’s shifts were. He looked at his timetable, too. They had no classes together on that day.

 Jean sat down on his bed, looking intensely at the chat once again. He had to reply something. He couldn’t just leave Eren on seen. Jean Kirschtein was a known asshole, but he wasn’t that much of an asshole.

 As he tried to think about something to type, Eren’s status turned to **_Online_** _._ Then, it became **_is typing_**. Jean panicked.

 

_ 8:14 am _

**you:** Hey, Eren.

 

“ _Hey, Eren_ ”. Jean slapped himself on the cheek, incredulous. _Hey, Eren._ Who texts just an hey after those kinds of messages? The answer was, sadly, himself. He sighed, trying to calm himself down. He locked his phone, ate the croissant and, as he left the house, waited for a notification to light it up again.

 Eren’s new texts found him as he was making his way through the empty seats in his classroom.

 

_ 8:58 am  _

**shitty fucking brat:** hey jean

**shitty fucking brat:** ignore last nit txts kk

**shitty fucking brat:** i drnk 2 much

**shitty fucking brat:** lol

**you:** Eren, are you okay?

**shitty fucking brat:** yh fine ssry bt it

**you:** well I mean you were right, I did ignore you.

 

 Jean’s fingers trembled a bit as he typed out the next message.

 

**you:** Do you have shifts today?

**shitty fucking brat:** wtah????

**you:** It’s not hard, Eren. Do you have shifts today?

**shitty fucking brat:** …yh, 4 to 8.

**you:** Then rest up until then! You shouldn’t be awake this early : )

**shitty fucking brat** : fuck you

**you:** Why is that the only thing you manage to spell correctly??

 

 Jean smiled to himself, locking his phone again. _Yeah, it was that easy,_ Jean thought, trying to go back to his lecture but, really, managing to only count down the minutes until 8 pm.

 When the clock counted 7:59, Jean started sweating. Or, to be more precise, managed to start sweating even more than he already was. He had been standing outside the café, trying to keep himself as hidden as possible, for about twenty minutes, waiting for the moment Eren would close his shift to make his grand and extremely nervous entrance.

 As the clock hit the time, Jean walked into _The Wings_ as casually as he could, hands in his pocket and eyes searching everywhere for Eren. Who was there. Cleaning a table. And made the most adorably surprised face Jean Kirschtein had ever seen in the course of his life. Fuck.

 « Hey, Eren. Would you … uh … like to grab some dinner? » Jean tried, as casual as possible and, obviously, horribly failing as soon as his eyes met Eren’s. He thought how stupid it was, how badly had he misinterpreted the situation. He thought about this and so many other things in the span of a moment― but then, Eren smiled, and Jean felt all his worries melt to the ground.

 « Yeah. Sure, Jean. I’m just gonna get changed. »

_Jean. He called me Jean._

 « Yeah. I’ll sit down here. Don’t take too long. »

 When Eren emerged from the staff room, Jean was leaning on the standing booth, phone in his hands to keep himself occupied. When he saw the door swing open (thanks to Eren’s non-existent delicacy) he smiled a bit, putting the phone in his pocket and raising his gaze to meet the other boy’s.

 « There, I hurried the fuck up. Now what? » Eren asked, his usual bratty tone on an edge― if Jean hadn’t known him, he would have thought it to be nervousness.

 « Now, brat, we go grab some dinner. How do you feel about burgers? » Jean shrugged, skipping over the fact that he just spent the last five minutes looking at recommendations on the net. He felt kind of stupid, not having everything ready, but to be fair, he didn’t even know Eren would say yes.

 « Wow, burgers. So fucking romantic. » Eren replied, snorting.

 « Is that a no? »

 « It’s a “let’s see who eats the biggest burger faster”, asshole. »

 Jean entered _The Wings_ with a beating heart, and left it with a challenge and the strong desire to mop the floor with Eren’s ass. He really couldn’t have asked more.

 

***

 

« So, uh, that was fun. I feel like I’m going to die, but it was fun. » Eren said as they left the venue, they both had their hands on their stomach, not ready to admit how hard it was to finish those last couple bites.

 Jean nodded. It _was_ fun. The challenge, the laughs― it wasn’t awkward at all. They called each other names and Eren threw a bunch of salad at him, and that just made it even more fun.

 « It really was, man. I even won. » he said, smug, as he started walking a bit faster.

 « No you did not, you fucker. I got the last bite first! » Eren screamed, long legs trying to catch up with Jean,

 « But my burger was bigger, you brat! » Jean screamed back, now properly sprinting through Karlova, heading towards the _Karlův most._

 They stopped just in front of it, both painting and exhausted from the food and the recent run. Jean tried to pull himself back up― then looked at Eren, still crouching and sweating, a gorgeous smile on his face, and felt weak on his legs.

 Eren Jaeger was so fucking gorgeous Jean was getting almost offended.

 « Next time we’re not eating burgers, though. Let’s do a sushi challenge. » he said, looking at the lights that shone on the bridge. He felt Eren smile.

 « Next time? » he heard him ask, tone softer than he’d ever heard him before.

 « Yeah, you fucking brat, » Jean replied, turning his head to face Eren. « Next time. »

 


End file.
